


Don't Say No

by Umi (umichii)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Bullying, Domestic Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, childhood fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8603497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umichii/pseuds/Umi
Summary: Kyoya didn’t know what it's supposed to feel like when someone turned his back on him, but he knew it hurts more than any kind of betrayal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for KHR Undercover 2009. Very major thanks to KT for all of her insights and help with beta-ing and editing.

He couldn't breathe anymore. He couldn't run anymore. So tired, so painful. His tiny legs couldn't keep up with this anymore. He wanted to finish this. So cowardly of him, but he didn't care anymore.   
  
It was too much. He couldn't take it anymore.  
  
“Don't let him get away!”   
  
He heard them yelling now, all of them frustrated and angry and out for his blood. They weren't going to hold back anymore. Hibari Kyoya was afraid. So afraid to think, to know if he could still go back home, if Mama would still recognize him.   
  
_But it's not my fault,_ he wanted to say. But he couldn't, so he just kept running.  
  
Doors. Two of them. He could do it. He just had to make it.  
  
Stairs. He couldn't give up, not yet. Even if no one was around anymore, even if he wasn't in a safe zone anymore, it's alright. Running was still an option.  
  
Someone. He saw that someone, and he knew that someone had seen him as well. _He's huge_ , he thought at first, but maybe it's because he's just _so_ small.   
  
_Help me! Please help me!_  
  
“He's just a brat! Get him!”  
  
Something grabbed his leg. He turned his head and cried. He saw blood dripping from a bite wound he gave his assaulter earlier, and it scared him.   
  
“Let me go!” He screamed, but the hand didn't let go. With all his strength, he jerked back, pushed aside that someone, and ran through the first open door he saw and slammed it shut.  
  


-o-

  
  
Shouran was about to lock the Student Council's office when he heard thundering footsteps echoing in the supposedly empty hallway. He immediately frowned at the thought of someone staying beyond curfew hours, a scolding already in mind. But what he saw instead was a child, hair so black and body so small and frail and pale, probably with fright, running towards him. His frown deepened when he noticed what the poor child was running away from.  
  
He let the child (must be from the grade school) run past him. It was his duty anyway, as the Student Council president to instill discipline into those without it. He would deal with the child later, after he finished with these seniors. Why were they chasing a child anyway?  
  
The door behind him shut with a loud slam. He kept his eyes on those in front of him. There were five of them, all of them bulky with muscles. He figured these guys were on the bad side of the spectrum, and it's his duty to correct that.  
  
He glared, blue eyes narrowing icily. “Must I explain the meaning of 'curfew' to you?”  
  
“Butt out, pretty boy,” one of them said. Shouran didn't miss the blots of red on the shirt's collar underneath the uniform coat. He was beginning to have the feeling these were the same seniors who had been bullying the kids from the grade school lately.  
  
“Yeah, this ain't your business,” another mentioned, to whom Shouran glared at.  
  
“Stepping on school grounds after curfew is reason enough to make it my business,” he answered coolly, voice lower than usual. His fingers itched for something to hit with, before finally curling into a fist. “Get out before I make you.”  
  
“Who the hell do yo—”  
  
And he didn't bother to hear the rest as he smashed that ugly face with his fist, crunching that nose and burying it deep into that idiot's skull. He frowned at the warm blood staining his fist.   
  
“Y-You—”  
  
“I hate people without any sense of respect and discipline over their actions the most. Now get out of here before I beat you all to death.”  
  


*

  
  
_Are they gone yet?_   
  
He couldn't hear anything from outside the room, and it scared him to know that once he stepped out of the room, those bullies would jump on him again, like all those other times when he was about to leave school. He didn't want to get beaten again. He didn't want to make Mama worry anymore, didn't want to see Mama cry anymore because he wasn't able to protect himself. _Because I can't let them say bad things about Mama at all._  
  
Young Kyoya sobbed as buried his head between his arms, curling into a ball in a corner. He heard the door slid open, and he felt even more afraid. What if _that person_ is one of them? Instantly, he forced himself to stay still and muffled his sobs. He couldn't be strong if he still cried like a baby just because someone had said bad words about Mama..  
  
To his surprise, he heard gentle footsteps. What if it didn't belong to _that person_?  
  
“Hey,” he heard a voice call out, just a foot away from him. It was soft and gentle, just like his footsteps, and right then he knew _this person_ wasn't like those bullies from the middle school. He was a kind and gentle person.   
  
_And then_ he _will beat you up, just like they did._  
  
“Are you alright?”   
  
No, he answers silently, to himself. He hurts all over, especially in his chest.   
  
“Don't worry, you're safe here. Those bad guys can't get into this room. Come on now, stop crying. You're from the Nami Grade School, right?”  
  
He stilled. And then he nodded.  
  
“I thought so. Shouldn't you be home now?”  
  
But he couldn't go home, not when they wouldn't let him go home. _Not when Mama will cry if she sees me._  
  
 _That person_ didn't say anything else. Instead, _he_ moved. What was _he_ going to do now?  
  
“Say what, I'll walk you home, alright? I don't have anything else to do anyway.”  
  
He froze again. But when he looked up, he saw the calmest and gentlest blue eyes gazing at him, pale, pink lips stretched into a warm smile. And his eyes widened when he saw the strangest shade of golden strands he had ever seen. It was a pale shade of yellow with specks of black scattered everywhere.   
  
A hand, heavy with strength yet soft with kindness, touched his right arm that was badly bruised from self-defense.  
  
He flinched instantly, and his eyes screwed shut at the pain. But the hand didn't disappear. It stayed there—stationary, solitary, solidly, unknowing of the damage it was causing.  
  
“You don't have to be afraid of me, kid.”  
  
 _Am I afraid of_ you _?_  
  
“Tell you what. You give me your name, and I'll give you mine. So anytime you need help, you can come and see me.”  
  
 _Will you always protect me?_  
  
“I'm Haneyuki Shouran, but you can call me Shouran-nii.”  
  
 _A just orchid... are you, really?_  
  
“How about you? What's your name?”  
  
Kyoya opened his eyes, and he saw Shouran-nii's smile widen. He could see the patience spreading along with those lips.   
  
“Hibari,” he paused slightly, as if waiting for a reaction. Most people would react almost immediately at the mention of his family name. When he saw none, he continued. “Kyoya.”  
  
Shouran-nii nodded, and that had reassured him enough to stop the erratic beating of his heart. That hand on his arm tightened, yet he held back a cry. His hand was so huge and firm despite the gentleness behind its touch.  
  
“So, Kyoya-kun,” Shouran-nii said, smiling again. “Why don't I walk you home now?”  
  


*

  
  
Mama was sitting outside the door, on the doorsteps, crying already when he—they—arrived home. _Why can't she fight for herself?_  
  
They stopped before the front gate. He didn't want to enter his home anymore. Mama was still crying, and he didn't like it. He wanted Mama to stop crying now and look up and see him and hug him and tell him everything's okay and that it'll stay like that.   
  
“Is she your mother?”  
  
Kyoya frowned and then nodded. He could feel blue eyes on him, watching him carefully, until that large hand holding his let go.   
  
_You can't leave me,_ he pleaded silently. Worry filled him immediately— _why?_  
  
Shouran-nii approached Mama slowly, leaving him alone next to the gates. What was Shouran-nii going to do? Was he going to comfort Mama like how he did to him? Or was he going to hurt Mama like Papa usually does? He had to stop Shouran-nii. He couldn't let Shouran-nii hurt Mama. Only Papa can hurt Mama.  
  
“I brought Kyoya-kun home, Hibari-san. He got lost in school, you see.”  
  
Kyoya's heart sank. _He can lie. He can also lie to Mama—like me._  
  
“Kyoya-kun,” Shouran-nii called out, and when he stretched out his hand, something inside of Kyoya jumped. “Come on, Kyoya-kun.”  
  
It reminded him of how the God in those storybooks he had read reached out a hand to the lost lamb, guiding it back to its herd. He wanted to take that hand, to wrap his fingers around it, and feel that warmth again.  
  
 _I don't want to be alone anymore._  
  


-o-

  
  
“Hey, Chief.”  
  
Shouran looked up from his report. Kusakabe Daisuke entered the Student Council office, a brown folder on hand.   
  
“About those guys from class 3-E, are you really serious about it?”  
  
“Perfectly.” Shouran answered without a thought. After a pause, he added, “Why?”  
  
Kusakabe winced a little in response before putting down the folder on the table. “The Disciplinary Committee is a little, well, hesitant in giving a—what do you call it? Oh yeah, 'judgment' about this. Especially since you used your, er, 'creative' disciplinary methods'.”  
  
Seeing the air-quotes Kusakabe used only made Shouran lose whatever little amusement he held. He gave Kusakabe a good, narrowed stare, blue eyes finally settling on the porcupine-like spikes that topped Kusakabe's head. And now he dared to go hypocritical on him?  
  
“Ask them who's in charge, Kusakabe Daisuke. Then report back to me about their decisions.”  
  
“Eh? But Chief—”  
  
“And fix you hair, damn it. I told you spikes aren't allowed. Think of something else.”  
  
A low, defeated sigh later, Kusakabe left him alone in the Student Council office.   
  
Shouran was about to go back to his report, pen tip just half an inch away from touching the paper when the office door burst open as Kusakabe rushed in.   
  
“Chief!”  
  
He jumped at the sudden interruption, right hand hitting an ink well. A blonde eyebrow twitched. _Damn, ink stain._  
  
“Chief! How come you never told me you had a little brother, too?!”  
  
Shouran blinked. _A what?_  
  
“I don't.”  
  
“Eh? But there's a kid here that just _really_ looks like you—except of course he didn't dye his hair—”  
  
“Kusakabe.” Blue eyes narrowed again, and this time, Shouran added a scowl.  
  
“Er... He's asking for 'Shouran-nii'—”  
  
He immediately jumped at the thought of Kyoya-kun and nearly toppled the chair over.   
  
_Crap! I forgot!_  
  
“Kyoya-kun!”  
  
“Eh? So that's his name—”  
  
“Where is he?”  
  
“Oh, he's just at the reception room, waiting. I had Mina take him there.”  
  
“You idiot! You should've let him in!”  
  
“Eh? But you never liked letting non-officers—”  
  
“Oh, never mind,” he muttered, tossing the report aside. With one hand, he grabbed his coat with the Student Council pin on its collar, donned it on and pocketed his wallet and mobile phone with the other hand. “Kusakabe, finish this report for me, alright?”  
  
“Eh?! But Chief! I have to fetch Tetsu—”  
  
“Please! I'll make it up to you tomorrow! Thanks!”  
  
And he bolted out of the Student Council office without a single clue what happened to Kyoya this time.  
  


*

  
  
The reception room didn’t feel nice. It was cold, and that girl asked him too many questions.  
  
“Who would've thought Haneyuki-kun actually has a little brother?” That was the sixth time she said that already. “Here, have some cookies! It's delicious!”   
  
He didn't like her at all. She kept on approaching him, ignoring his glares. _What's taking Shouran-nii so long?_ Did he forget about him?  
  
Maybe he forgot about him already. _Just like Papa._  
  
The door slammed open, and like a hopeful son, his head perked up as well, and he broke into a bright smile when Shouran-nii walked into the reception room, panting and catching his breath. _He's here!_  
  
“Shouran-nii!”  
  
“Ah, Kyoya-kun,” Shouran-nii greeted, and Kyoya smiled again, this time shyly. “I'm sorry to make you wait. I got busy.”  
  
 _It's alright,_ he wanted to say, but he couldn't; something lodged itself in his throat, something he knew that wasn’t a physical manifestation of his nervousness.   
  
“Hey, I have an idea, Kyoya-kun—”   
  
He's going to choke. That something was becoming thicker, bigger, heavier. “Let's go and eat some sushi, alright? You like sushi, right?”  
  
He forced a smile and then a nod. The anxiety must have shown, he thought, because for one second, Shouran-nii’s expression changed, almost worried, angry. _I have to stop. I can't let him down._  
  
“That's great then!” He laughed, smiling again. His laugh was so natural his eyes closed. “I know one good place where we can eat sushi!”  
  
“Yeah!” He gladly answered with a smile that doesn't usually grace his face. But it's alright; for Shouran-nii’s sake, he'll be happy, even if he has to force himself.  
  
 _It'll be alright._  
  


*

  
  
Shouran-nii had brought him to an old Japanese place that contrasted with the modern stores around it. There was a huge sign, defintely bigger than him that read Takesushi.   
  
“Come on, Kyoya-kun. Trust me, this place is good!”  
  
He let himself to be dragged forward. He was about to brace himself for a really crowded place, with people of all ages, talking and laughing so loud it'll give him headaches—until he stepped in. It was empty, and they were alone.  
  
Did Shouran-nii also like to be alone? _No, if he did, he wouldn't be with me right now._  
  
There was a bar to their right with a display of raw foods and colored plates, a tray of teacups and a teapot. Behind it was a sink and a door leading to what may be the kitchen. There were only five stools, and four tables with four stools each against the wall to their left. He noticed stairs leading up farther at the back; maybe the store owner lived here too with his family.   
  
Then he heard Shouran-nii call out, “Yamapapa!”   
  
_Yamapapa? Maybe that's the store owner's name._   
  
He heard some shuffling beyond the bar, and then the door opened to reveal an old man holding a gigantic fish over his shoulder. He was wearing a chef's uniform; maybe the owner and the chef were just the same person?  
  
“Haha, Haneyuki-kun! Haven't seen you in a long time!”  
  
Shouran-nii laughed back, his laughter like tinkling wind chimes. “School has gotten busy lately.”  
  
Then the Yamapapa said something else next, but Kyoya wasn't listening; he was too busy watching Shouran-nii—because Shouran-nii suddenly stopped laughing. Shouran-nii looked at the Yamapapa strangely, before breaking into a grin and pushing _him_ forward.   
  
“This is my sort-of little brother! Introduce yourself, Kyoya-kun.”  
  
“This the first time I’ve seen you hanging around with someone who’s not Daisuke-kun!” The Yamapapa grinned again. “I must say, you've improved, Haneyuki-kun. Now come on, get over here. What do you boys want?”  
  
As the Yamapapa guided both of them to the barstools, Kyoya was watching Shouran-nii. Shouran-nii's hand hadn’t left his shoulder, he noticed. Then Shouran-nii turned around and asked him what he wanted. He must have requested tuna, because a minute later, there was a plate with three slices of raw tuna in front of him. He blinked at it, wondering again when he had said a word.  
  
“Order anything else you want, Kyoya-kun,” Shouran-nii said.   
  
Then the Yamapapa added cheerfully, “Everything's on the house, boys!”  
  
“But Yamamoto-san!”  
  
“It's alright, Haneyuki-kun. You've helped me lots with babysitting...”  
  
And the two began talking to each other heatedly about some baby and deeds, like adults trying to outdo each other with their offers. He watched them quietly, hands flat on his lap. He wouldn't dare eat first, especially with such a good food being offered for free. _I don't want to disappoint Shouran-nii._  
  
“Kyoya-kun?”  
  
Startled, he looked up at Shouran-nii. Even when they're sitting next to each other, Shouran-nii’s still so tall.  
  
“What's wrong?”  
  
Kyoya could feel his cheeks heating up.   
  
“Thank you for the meal...” he mumbled under his breath as his eyes darted away, too shy to meet Shouran-nii's inquiring gaze or even the Yamapapa’s warm, fatherly smile. His heart gave a leap when Shouran-nii's rich voice laughed softly, a hand patting him on the head.  
  
“You’re welcome, Kyoya-kun.”  
  
He’s glad though that at least Shouran-nii didn’t ask him why he sought him today.  
  


*

  
  
The house was so dark when he got home that he wondered if Mama was away—or if Papa was home. He let Shouran-nii accompany him only to the front door and then bade him goodbye. He didn’t want to bother Shouran-nii anymore.  
  
With the key Mama had always left under the doormat, he opened the door and walked in, leaving his shoes on the shoe rack.   
  
“Mama?”  
  
Only silence answered him. He kept on walking, biting back the urge to instinctively run to the kitchen or up the stairs. Maybe she did go out and buy food for dinner.  
  
 _Crash._  
  
He jumped at the sound from the kitchen.  
  
 _Mama!_  
  
He ran for it, small feet thundering against the wooden floorboard, rushing to the kitchen—he screamed when he found so many shattered pieces— _what happened, Mama?_ —of white, porcelain plates all over the floor, Mama on her knees, crying and crying, just like she always did.  
  
“Mama?”  
  
Something burst next to his ear. He gasped at the sound of glass hitting wall, of something slicing his cheek.  
  
“M-Mama...”  
  
It stung.  
  
“Ungrateful child—”  
  
It hurt.  
  
“—shouldn't have let you live—”  
  
 _Stop it._  
  


-o-

  
  
Shouran was busy with finishing his report (that darn Kusakabe didn’t even finish it) that morning while thinking of better ways to make the Disciplinary Committee fall into his hands when the door to the Student Council office opened. Looking up from the report, Shouran was ready to greet Kusakabe with more than just a hello in mind—  
  
“Kusa—”  
  
Until the rest disappeared from his throat. Even his senses were blown away as he stared aghast at what appears to be the, well...  
  
“Chief?”  
  
It's a... well...  
  
“What's wrong, Chief?”  
  
 _Didn't seem quite right to say it._  
  
Kusakabe remained silent for a few seconds, staring dumbly at him. And then finally, Kusakabe asked, “It's the hair, isn't it?” to which Shouran answered with a slight, shaking nod.   
  
“Don't tell me it goes against the handbook. It took me an hour to get it right!”  
  
“It... doesn't unless I make it but—how to put this into words? It's sorts of, well... _obscene_.” He ended the last word with a slight grimace.   
  
His vice president suddenly looked scandalized at his comment. Shouran couldn't blame him though. But at least he didn’t bluntly tell Kusakabe it looked phallic, right?   
  
“Did Tetsuya-kun say anything about it?” he asked, his mind beginning to picture the younger and more cool-headed Kusakabe brother reacting boisterously to his brother's every action.  
  
“C-CHIEF!”  
  
 _Maybe he did_. “Ah, just wanted to make sure, that's all...” _Or maybe I'm the only one who thinks such._  
  
Pretending Kusakabe didn't just glare at him, Shouran gathered the reports to his left before filing them into a folder and handing it to his vice president, all the while asking, “But why the pompadour, Kusakabe?”  
  
“I was...” and the rest sounded gibberish as Kusakabe’s voice disappeared under his breath, earning a raise of an eyebrow from Shouran.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I _said_ I saw Elvis Presley! There!”  
  
“Elvis Presley?” Shouran blinked. “ _For real_?”  
  
“Of course not! Damn it, Chief! If you don't like it, fine! But I’m keeping it, so stop teasing, alright?!”   
  
“I was only asking—”  
  
“Good day to you, Chief! Thank you for the hard work!”  
  
And then the office door closed with a loud slam, the framed award hanging next to it shaking. Puzzled, Shouran stared at the door and wondered what had gotten into his vice president.  
  
 _Oh, well.._ And he gladly took his pen again, ready to go through another folder of reports—until Kusakabe barged in again.  
  
“CHIEF!”  
  
Shouran sighed without looking up, one hand opening the folder. _And there goes my hard work._ “Yes?”  
  
“I forgot to ask you about that kid you’re with yesterday.”  
  
“You mean Kyoya-kun?” Shouran asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the report.  
  
“Yeah. Do you know he’s Hibari’s kid?”  
  
Shouran didn’t answer for a minute. He only stared at Kusakabe warily, his lips pulling down into a frown.   
  
“I tried not to think too much about it. Why?”  
  
“Apparently, those guys from class 3-E are chasing him because his father owed something big to their family and hasn't paid them back as according to the agreement.”  
  
“I see…” _But what about the other kids in the neighborhood?_  
  
“Also, the Disciplinary Committee is referring to this as the Hibari case, hence the reluctance on helping.”  
  
“Well, seeing that the Hibaris have their own urban legend here I guess it’s not that surprising.”  
  
“But what I don’t get, Chief, is why _we_ are handling this case,” Kusakabe admitted as he handed a brown envelope to Shouran. “This is by all means not a school-related matter, much less Nami Middle’s business.”  
  
“It’s because it’s our students who dealt the first blow,” Shouran explained while skimming through the folder’s content, pausing once in a while to read. “And also that I doubt anyone other than us would be willing to take care of this.”  
  
“Because it’s related to the Hibaris?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Kusakabe snorted at that confirmation. “So how are we going to wrap up this case?”  
  
“First, we need to know if those children who were bullied prior to Kyoya-kun are also indebted to the bullies' families in some ways. Then we’ll decide if this is just a juvenile bullying case or if the adults are behind this. Now if it’s the former, then we’ll have to ‘discipline’ the seniors for picking on the kids. But if the adults are involved…”  
  
“We’ll hand this over to the local police?”  
  
There was a momentary lapse of answer as Shouran gathered his thoughts again. Finally, he said, “If push comes to shove then we’ll do that. But I personally would rather _us_ to do this. I have the feeling it’s safer if we keep this among ourselves.”  
  
“Alright. I'm off to class then, Chief. Later.”  
  
This time, the door closed with a gentle shut, leaving the room in silence again.  
  
An hour and a stiff neck later, with all pens and folders stashed away, Shouran prepared to leave, all the while wondering just how long had Kyoya-kun been enduring this.  
  


*

  
  
It was two-thirty in the afternoon already. Almost all of his classmates have left already.   
  
He kept his eyes glued towards the asphalt ground, kicking the air with both feet. There's a new scrape on his knee today. That fat guy whose name he didn’t know had shoved him off the swing today; his teeth gritted at the mere memory of it, of how helpless he was to fight back because he’s just _so small_.   
  
“Um...”   
  
His head turned in a snap, his eyes narrowed deadly at the tall boy standing next to him. The boy was tall and big, definitely someone who was born with big bones.   
  
“Hi. I noticed you’re always alone. And I... uh... thought if I could...”  
  
“No.” He cut him off tersely and turned away in the blink of an eye.   
  
“I'm Kusa—”  
  
But he didn't hear the rest as someone yelled a name—he didn't hear what it was; he didn't bother. But he did notice a strange man wearing the Namimori Middle School's uniform with the strangest hair he had ever seen waving like the caveman he had seen in a comic book, all the while crying out a name.   
  
“Nii-san!” the tall boy next to him cried, and judging from the sound of it, he must be truly embarrassed. He couldn't blame the tall boy though. _Even I would be_.  
  
After some more whispered fussing, the two left without a word to him. But he didn't miss the small smile and the goodbye wave the tall boy gave him, and seeing that made his chest swell a little with something he'd rather not admit to himself.   
  


*

  
  
A little past five-thirty, and Mama still had yet to appear. He was alone at school, sitting on the stairs waiting for Mama’s thin figure to appear outside the gates, with the feeling that Mama forgot to fetch him today. Like most days.   
  
As he stood up, his fists tightened around the backpack's straps, braving himself to step out of those gates. It’s not that he was afraid to go home all by himself; he was just being cautious, that's all. After all, he'll never knew when those bullies would come around again to pick on him just because he’s _Hibari Kyoya_ , that _bastard's son_.   
  
With a small intake of breath, he dragged himself out of school. He didn't dare look up at the faces of those who walked past him. Everyone in Namimori knew him and his family. Everyone knew what it’s like to get involved with the Hibari family. He could remember Papa's constant discipline and slaps whenever Papa found out he had talked to someone.   
  
And then he remembered— _does Papa know Shouran-nii?_  
  
He hoped not. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Papa knew about Shouran-nii—  
  
 _Or if Shouran-nii knows Papa and Mama_ , he finished solemnly as he stopped in his tracks. Shouran-nii had never broached the topic about his family or about those bullies who were chasing him.   
  
Something wet dropped from above, hitting him right on top of his head. A second later, hundreds of them began falling at the same time, until it became thousands then countless. Puddles formed around him like mushrooms sprouting from the rain. Somewhere not quite far from him, he could hear stray dogs barking and spot cats and rats scurrying around as they look for shelter from the rain.   
  
_Lucky them_. He wondered if he'd ever have shelter from the rain.  
  


*

  
  
Kyoya ran.   
  
He ran as fast as his short legs could carry him up the stairs, smart (and experienced) enough not to look over his shoulder. He dove into his room, kicking the door closed and clutching onto the doorknob, locking it in instinct. In response to the heavy banging against the wood that followed, he pushed the night table with all his little might towards the door to block it.  
  
Papa was home earlier than usual and angry again tonight because Mama hadn't prepared dinner on time and was fuming when Kyoya came home late from school, soaked to the bone. Papa thought he was ‘too busy playing with friends outside school’ instead of coming home and helping Mama, that's why he hit him with a stick—  
  
He sobbed, large teardrops falling slowly from his eyes and down his cheeks thickly. The banging continued— _make it stop_ —the interval between each pound becoming longer— _make it stop!_ —until finally, as if sensing his plea, it stopped, but not without a loud kick.   
  
His sobs paused. He waited for the next move with bated breath, heart beating madly against his ribs. Putting that night table against the door always made Papa mad, but he knew Papa was strong enough to break down the door if he wanted to.  
  
Kyoya hoped that wouldn’t happen anymore. Kyoya hoped he could get out of this house as soon as possible.  
  
  


*

  
  
“Hibari-kun!”   
  
Nami-sensei was waving her hand at him. He watched her expression lighting up when she noticed him glancing back at her. She called his name again, until finally, he couldn't take it anymore and walked up to her.  
  
He stared at her coldly, without blinking, as if that alone could make her apologize and go away. But it didn't, and that only made him frown a little.  
  
“Hibari-kun,” she said with that sugar-coated voice filled with feign worry like all adults around him. “You didn't pass the paper for the Parents Conference Day. Is there anything wrong?”   
  
“No,” he lied smoothly and added, because he knew it'll make all other questions go away: “Mama and Papa can't come.”  
  
Nami-sensei pursed her lips and bent forward with both hands on her knees. “Are they not around? I would like to talk to them, Hibari-kun, even if it's just through the phone.”  
  
“Mama and Papa are always busy,” and that wasn't a lie, he assured himself, as if he can only lie once per day. “They come home late and go out early.”  
  
“What about guardians? Surely you have someone taking care of you.”  
  
He stayed quiet for a while, lost in thought. Shouran-nii was the first image that came to mind.   
  
_Shouran-nii takes care of me_ , he thought. But then he frowned, thinking that Shouran-nii had only taken care of him just _twice_. Still, Shouran-nii took care of him for those two short days.   
  
_So does that make him my guardian?_  
  
“Well,” he began, eyes dodging Nami-sensei's inquiring eyes. “There _is_ someone...”  
  


*

  
  
He imagined what Shouran-nii's reaction would be. _Or if I ask him to sign._  
  
Would he accept? Or would he scowl disdainfully? Whatever his reaction might be, Kyoya hoped it wouldn't be like the second one. Getting another paper would be a hassle, not to mention Nami-sensei would only ask him more questions.   
  
And so, with the paper in hand, he hurried to Namimori Middle school, avoiding everyone's sharp gaze on him. Did Shouran-nii also suffer this kind of scrutiny?  
  
 _No_ , he frowned. _Shouran-nii is their idol. They look up at him, not down._  
  
He arrived outside that same room he’d known as the Student Council's office slightly out of breath. Trepidation weighed heavy in his heart. Should he call out Shouran-nii's name while he knock? What's he going to tell Shouran-nii when he enters?  
  
The door didn't open when he knocked. Again, he tried and no one answered.   
  
_Maybe he's busy?_  
  
So, he waited patiently. Shouran-nii will be the only person he was going to wait patiently for.   
  
Yet no matter how long his patience was stretched, or how hopeful he remained, the door was still closed, and the silence only became worse than ever before.  
  
He stared at the door in disbelief; he tried his hardest to school his warring emotions of fear and worry, yet some had slipped. His heart began to beat wildly—he had been forgotten.   
  
_He said I can always come here when I need help. But where is he?_  
  
Where's Shouran-nii when Kyoya needed him? He couldn't believe _this._  
  
 _He lied. He lied to_ me.   
  
He shouldn't have let his hopes up. Just because Shouran-nii was kind and gentle and so compassionate during those times didn’t mean he was going to be like that forever. Shouran-nii must have taken pity on him, a poor bullied child. That must have been why he put up with him. He must have spent all his spare time pitying him like an _adult._  
  
Yes. Just like an adult, that's who Shouran-nii is. And all this time, little Kyoya had let himself be played as a fool for blindly following and believing his every word. He should've known.  
  
 _So stupid, Kyoya._  
  
“Kyoya-kun?”  
  
He jolted out of his reverie at the mention of his name. But he didn't turn around, not when he realized the voice was completely new, a pitch lower than Shouran-nii's.   
  
That strange man with an even stranger hair from yesterday stood before him. He stared coldly at the strange man, perturbed at that amused gaze he’s giving Kyoya.   
  
Had he caught Kyoya on the verge of panic?  
  
“You’re Kyoya-kun, right?”  
  
Unsure of what to say, he said nothing.  
  
“Thought so. If you’re here for the Chief, he left early for archery practice.”  
  
 _Archery practice?_  
  
“He’s busy then.” Kyoya said, more to assure himself than—  
  
“I can take you there if you want.”  
  
Kyoya was startled at the strange man’s words. The strange man just shrugged and said, “I’m on my way there anyways. Besides, you’re Tetsu’s friend, so I don’t mind.”  
  
“I’m not—”   
  
But he caught himself before he could finish that sentence as the strange man introduced himself—“Kusakabe Daisuke”—but not without glancing oddly at him. He didn’t feel like making this man, who’s obviously bigger than Shouran-nii, have a reason to hurt him. Thus, he simply nodded and followed this strange man’s footsteps, and while they passed multiple hallways and buildings and gates to get to a dojo, he wondered who Tetsu could be.  
  


*

  
  
All thoughts of remembering a classmate—he never made it a habit to _know_ their names—named Tetsu disappeared when he spotted the straight figure of Shouran-nii, one arm stretched with bow on hand, the other in position to release an arrow. It was the most graceful stance he had ever seen, this sight of a still Shouran-nii, muscles tense, ready to release his hold—  
  
And right then, the arrow was released with the wind whistling behind it as it flew in such a speed that Kyoya barely counted up to two when it already hit the target dead in the center.  
  
He watched as Shouran-nii lowered his bow until it was hanging limply at his side. Even when resting, Shouran-nii still had so much grace. It had completely made Kyoya forget all those doubts he had about him.  
  
“Hey, Chief.”  
  
Startled, Kyoya glanced up at Kusakabe, annoyed at him for daring to break Shouran-nii’s concentration. And indeed, Shouran-nii’s focus broke, his head turning towards Kusakabe's voice. Just who is Kusakabe to Shouran-nii? A companion? A subordinate?  
  
 _A friend?_  
  
No, he can’t be a friend. He had to be just a follower, a member of this Student Council Shouran-nii led. That’s all he was, no one important. Someone like Shouran-nii didn’t need a so-called friend, because strong people didn’t need friends. Friends only weaken a person.  
  
“Kyoya-kun,” Shouran-nii said softly, probably surprised at seeing him. Then he turned his attention to Kusakabe and asked, “Kusakabe, how was the meeting?”  
  
“Bloody like hell. The Disciplinary Committee completely backed away.”  
  
“It’s alright. We’ll take care of this. I expected this sort of turn anyway.”  
  
Then they both shifted, Kusakabe preparing to leave while Shouran-nii took off his gear, and Kyoya watched in silent adoration at how gently Shouran-nii treated his bow. He felt his heart leap when Shouran-nii gestured for him to come forward.  
  
“Do you want to have a try?”  
  
He was surprised, especially when Shouran-nii handed him the bow. But the notion of attacking from a distance, even if it’s just a target practice…  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing…” Kyoya muttered.   
  
With shaky hands, he took the bow and arrow, with Shouran-nii's hands guiding him into position, the tail-end and the shaft lodged perfectly, arrow head just above his small fingers. He heard the string being pulled and stretched to its limits; Shouran-nii whispered for him to release. He didn't know exactly when, but he knew he had his eyes shut when the arrow had already left his touch.   
  
_I did it._  
  
He panted, trying to catch his breath as if that was the most tiring exercise he had ever done, while Shouran-nii smiled and went to retrieve the arrow. He glanced at the target practice; the arrow hit an area before the edge. Somehow, knowing this only made him more conscious of how heavy the bow actually was.  
  
“That wasn't so bad,” Kusakabe commented, taking up the empty spot beside him. “Tetsu could barely hit the target when Chief let him try.”  
  
“I thought you left already.” Kyoya said. Kusakabe looked at him strangely like before. Then he shrugged casually, as if he didn't mind talking to an elementary school kid.  
  
“It's unusual for the Chief to let anyone use his set. You're the first person he's allowed to use it.”  
  
“I thought 'Tetsu' also tried it?”  
  
“He did, but not with Chief's set.”  
  
That fact only made Kyoya realize he still didn't know how much Shouran-nii cared for him. But one question couldn’t stop plaguing his mind all this time: _why does Shouran-nii care?_  
  
“Kyoya-kun, let’s go for some sushi. You too, Kusakabe. Bring Tetsuya-kun with you.”   
  
Was it because he was a bullied child? Or was it because Shouran-nii _did_ know about his family and had pitied him? If Shouran-nii knew, then obviously, he was doing this out of sympathy, to let him feel cherished, and Kyoya didn’t know if he should feel happy about it or not.   
  
“Kyoya-kun?”  
  
He may have yearned for the warm attention his parents never gave him, but he didn’t want it from anybody else other than them. It made him feel weak that he had to go to someone else just to confirm his existence.  
  
“Kyoya-kun!”  
  
Kyoya blinked as Shouran-nii, gazing at him worriedly, shook his shoulders. “Are you alright, Kyoya-kun?”  
  
 _Am I…?_  
  
Dumbly, Kyoya nodded, eyes a little wider than usual. Then Kyoya pulled himself away from Shouran-nii’s hold, turning abruptly towards to Kusakabe who only watched him curiously. He may not have seen it, but he definitely felt Shouran-nii’s worried frown, and that only made him feel even more uneasy. Just what is he to Shouran-nii?  
  


*

  
  
They passed by the grade school building to get 'Tetsu'. Only when Kyoya saw Tetsu face to face did he recognize 'Tetsu' was _that_ tall boy from yesterday.   
  
Kyoya only nodded at him as a form of hello, but somehow, it was enough for Tetsu to smile and greet back with a happy ‘nice to see you again.’ They didn’t say a word to each other anymore along the way. Whatever Tetsu had said, Kyoya ignored it, and he guessed that sent the message through clearly.  
  
But that didn’t stop him from befriending Kyoya, even when they were at Takesushi sitting next to each other, Shouran-nii and Kusakabe to Tetsu’s right. It was the first time Shouran-nii wasn’t by his side, and that made Kyoya insecure, especially when Tetsu would occasionally block his sight whenever he’d try to look at Shouran-nii.   
  
Kyoya didn’t know if he should be angry at Tetsu for doing that or not.  
  
“Kyoya-kun—”  
  
Kyoya glared at Tetsu and said, “Don’t call me that. You _can't_ call me that.” _Only Shouran-nii can call me that._  
  
“Then, Hibari—”  
  
Kyoya’s glare only hardened from hearing that name, enough to make Tetsu apologize instantly with a ‘Kyoya-san’ attached, and when Kyoya heard that, he knew it was the right one.   
  
“That’s enough.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That ‘Kyoya-san,’” Kyoya said. “Call me that.”  
  
“O-Okay…” Tetsu answered; Kyoya grinned when he noticed the hint of fear from the tall boy. And then when Kyoya ordered him to make him a new cup of tea, Tetsu quickly went for the teapot to make Kyoya his tea.  
  
 _Be like that, a good, obedient dog._  
  
Suffice it to say, after that snack at Takesushi, Kyoya had gained himself a follower, and it gave him a sense of pride whenever he saw Tetsu doing his every demand without a question.  
  


*

  
  
Tetsu and his big brother parted ways with them outside Takesushi, and Shouran-nii wanted to walk Kyoya home. And throughout the entire walk, Kyoya was locked in a heavy internal debate on how he was going to ask Shouran-nii to sign the Parents Conference Day paper. He was so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed they were already in front of his house if Shouran-nii hadn't shaken him out of his reverie.  
  
“You’ve been spacing out a lot today, Kyoya-kun,” Shouran-nii observed. “Are you sick?”  
  
Kyoya shook his head. And then he dug deep into his bag and gave Shouran-nii the paper.   
  
_Please sign it._  
  
Shouran-nii accepted it silently and began to read, eyes following the flow of the letters—Kyoya knew Shouran-nii was trying to hide his frown when he brought the paper closer to his face. Seeing that only made Kyoya even more nervous. _How am I supposed to ask him?_  
  
Finally, with a deep breath, Kyoya gathered up his courage and asked—“Will you sign it for me?”  
  
 _Please..._  
  
“Kyoya-kun…”  
  
 _What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?_  
  
Shouran-nii returned the paper to him with a sad look on his face.   
  
“I’m sorry, Kyoya-kun. I can’t.”  
  
 _Why?_  
  
“Oh.” He simply said, his eyes dropping down from Shouran-nii’s apologetic face to stare at the pavement.   
  
“Kyoya-kun…”  
  
 _I thought..._  
  
“I have to go!”   
  
He ran straight into his house like he always did, away from those who constantly end up hurting him. Even when he kicked his shoes away and stormed straight into his bedroom, he was still running away. Even when he threw himself onto his bed, punched and tore his pillow apart, feathers floating all over him as he cried and cried, he was still running away. And Kyoya knew he would always be a slave to running away.  
  


*

  
  
Kyoya ended up giving the paper back to Nami-sensei the next day without a signature, because his parents 'wouldn't be home for the rest of the week', and he didn't know any relatives who could sign it as his 'guardian'. Nami-sensei only gave him an understanding look before excusing him from the matter. Kyoya never thought he would harbor relief from something like that, especially from someone like Nami-sensei.  
  
He also didn’t go to see Shouran-nii that day or the days after that. For one week, he didn’t visit Nami Middle. When Tetsu suggested going there together after school, Kyoya only glared at him then left. The next morning, Tetsu apologized to him without asking why he acted like that, because he ‘thinks he knows’ to which Kyoya answered with a glare deadlier than a punch in the face.   
  
But that afternoon, he did punch that fat boy from the week before. _I can't stand it anymore._ And when their teacher made him face the corner because of that, he only swore to get back at the teacher once he has enough power to do it.  
  
Even Tetsu avoided mentioning anything other than their homework. Kyoya was content with that, so he let it go. But Tetsu stopped doing that on the second week since he last saw Shouran-nii.   
  
Tetsu was outside the school gate already while he stayed behind, waiting on the stairs again for Mama's figure that he knew would never appear anymore. He tried to turn his gaze away from the school gate when he noticed Kusakabe's huge body until he spot the smaller person standing next to Kusakabe—and now approaching him.  
  
Kyoya gasped when he recognized that graceful walk and those warm eyes.   
  
_It can't be._  
  
“Shouran-nii…”  
  
But he didn’t look like Shouran-nii. Even if it _was_ Shouran-nii, Kyoya wouldn’t believe it, because Shoura-nii didn’t wear an eyepatch or have black hair. Yet the tiny hopeful one inside him didn’t want to think otherwise.  
  
Standing up, Kyoya stared unabashedly at this person he fearfully knew was Shouran-nii. _It had been so long already. Is he mad at me?_  
  
Shouran-nii stopped a foot away from him, watching him (it felt weird, being observed by just one eye). And then he smiled.  
  
“Kyoya-kun. How are you these days?”   
  
_Horrible,_ he was about to say, but he held back his tongue.   
  
“I'm sorry I hadn't visited you all these days—”  
  
 _Don't say it like it's your fault._  
  
“—it's just that I was busier these past few days. It's funny actually that this is the first time I realized there were so many undisciplined students in Namimori Middle School. It annoyed me very much, and I can't help but do something about it.”   
  
“Your eye...”  
  
But Kyoya couldn't continue it, not when he couldn't bring his head up to stare at Shouran-nii anymore.  
  
“My eye? Oh,” Shouran-nii chuckled, startling him. “I was a bit stupid. I got hurt in a fight because I thought I was strong enough for them. I even had to dye my hair back to black because of that lousy fight.”  
  
The silence that followed was a very heavy and strong one, deafening enough for Kyoya to despise it. It was only broken when Shouran-nii spoke again, this time softer, his voice laced with a kind of emotion that made Kyoya looked up in dread.  
  
“I'm sorry I can't keep my promise to you, Kyoya-kun. If something happens, just go to Kusakabe for help. I have to go now. Take care of yourself, alright?”  
  
And then Shouran-nii turned around without another word. Kyoya didn’t know what it's supposed to feel like when someone turned his back on him, but he knew it hurts more than any kind of betrayal.  
  


*

  
  
“Kyoya-san…”  
  
“I’m napping.”   
  
“But Kyoya-san…”  
  
Peering one eye open, Kyoya tried his best to glare scarily with one eye. And then he stopped doing it when he remembered Shouran-nii and his eyepatch.   
  
“What?” Kyoya asked rudely, straightening himself up. “I don’t like being disturbed when I sleep.”  
  
Tetsu frowned at him, the kind of frown that speaks of worry. “Nii-san told me last night that Shouran-nii is leaving tomorrow. He’s going back to America.”  
  
“And so?”  
  
“Eh?”   
  
Tetsu gaped at him in pure disbelief, stuttering as he spoke: “B-But Kyo-san! _Sh-Shouran-nii_ is leaving and not coming back!”  
  
“I don’t care.” Kyoya answered back as if it was nothing. He _made_ himself believe he didn’t care despite the sudden thump in his chest. To bother with those words would only hurt him, and Shouran-nii had definitely hurt him more than enough.  
  
“After all Shouran-nii had done—”  
  
 _Am I the only one who didn't know?_  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
This time, the glare Kyoya gave Tetsu was real with coldness and anger, and he was glad Tetsu backed away from the glare. When he would recall back to that particular memory much later in the future, he would’ve agreed it was one of those times that clearly differentiated Tetsu from a friend.  
  
“I don’t need you to tell me what he had done or not.”  
  
“You don’t understand—”  
  
“I don’t want to understand!”  
  
“Kyoya-san…”  
  
 _He’s a liar._  
  
“You’re not my friend!” He screamed at Tetsu who drew back immediately.  
  
 _Just like Mama and Papa._  
  
“So leave me alone!”  
  
 _Just like everybody else._  
  
*  
  
Kyoya woke up to the vibration of his phone under his pillow with Hibird singing along to the ringtone. Groaning, he rolled over and pulled out the phone, glaring angrily at the screen.   
  
“Good morning, Kyoya!”  
  
“I’m going to bite you to death, Cavallone.”   
  
Maintaining one’s calmness and deadliness despite the very strong urge to cross the streets in pajamas just to kill a certain foreigner so early in the morning was hard work even if he’s Hibari Kyoya. Damn foreigners just can't be happy to stay in their own country, can they?  
  
“Kyoya, I’m going to pick you up in ten minutes, alright? Then we’ll go out for breakfast!”  
  
“Cavallone…”  
  
Cavallone hang up before he could throw more threats at him. _Damn herbivore_. And then he realized that was actually the first time that stupid foreigner had hang up on him.   
  
_What…_  
  
The phone rang again. Thankfully, the screen read _Tetsu_ instead of _Stupid Cavallone._  
  
“Kyo-san,” Tetsu greeted, forgoing the usual diplomacy. “The Student Council is demanding us to vacate the office. Should I send the team in?”  
  
“Go on,” Kyoya muttered, too busy to think of anything else as Hibird pecked his cheek. “Did you put the name board up yet?”  
  
“Yes, Kyo-san, like you ordered.”  
  
 _No wonder they’re up so early in the morning for a fight._ Kyoya nearly scoffed at the thought. Pity he couldn't go there immediately and bite them all to death.  
  
“Beat anyone who dares to remove the sign, Tetsu. I’ll be there in an hour.”  
  
“Bu—If you say so, Kyo-san.”  
  
Tetsu hung up without a goodbye. Kyoya wasn’t surprised at all. It had always been like this since years ago; Tetsu’s usual slip of the tongue and him expecting an opinion from Tetsu, then realizing he shouldn’t be expecting one at all. _You reap what you sow, is that it? Ah, nevermind._ Thinking too much about it would only annoy him, and he didn't like being annoyed, especially by himself.  
  
With a short sigh, Kyoya tossed the phone carelessly onto the bed, letting Hibird peck on it, as he went straight for the adjacent bathroom of his dorm room. He’ll think of something else more creative to insult Cavallone after his shower.

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, this fic wasn't supposed to be my Undercover entry, but then a grand idea suddenly hit me, which I don't think I was able to fully explore in the end. It was hard, since I was chasing both the deadline and the ending. So the ending is, well, a bit sudden and loophole-ish. orz For that I apologize.


End file.
